A
lion’s pride isn’t defined only by those he commands but also resides with his
hair, so when a human dares to butcher Arik’s mane, he gets his revenge—and
claims her as his mate.

A
billionaire CEO and leader of the largest East Coast pride, Arik is a ladies
man and a lion. Used to commanding others, and obedience, he can’t believe it
when a hairdresser with tempting curves chops off a hunk of his precious mane.

But
her biggest mistake is in running from him.

Run as fast as
you can, little mouse, because this cat loves to chase—and pounce.

Oh,
and he also likes to nibble on tender bits. What he doesn’t expect is to fall
for a human woman, a woman who can make the impossible happen because everyone
knows lions can’t purr…until now.

“What
do you mean Dominic isn’t here?” Arik didn’t quite raise his voice, and yet
everyone in the barbershop heard him and noted his displeasure. Heads ducked,
hands busied themselves snipping and styling, and no one dared meet his gaze.

If
they were lion shifters, he would have said it was because they recognized his
alpha status—say hello to the king of the concrete jungle. But these were only
regular humans, people easily cowed by a man in an expensive suit with a
commanding attitude.

Except
for one.

“Granddad
is out west.”

The
woman’s reply had him spinning, and he inhaled sharply, which drew in more than
just the scent of the barbershop. It drew in her tempting aroma—and stirred a
hunger that had nothing to do with food.

Smells delicious.
For
a human.

Standing
at just over five and a half feet, the woman barely reached his chin. She
didn’t let her shortness deter her. Her head tilted. The chin raised, almost
defiantly, as she met his stare. Brown eyes framed in dark lashes didn’t turn
from his amber-hued ones.

Someone’s got
spirit. But
he didn’t have time to explore how far her attitude and bravery went. There
were more important matters clamoring for his attention.Such as his poor,
shaggy mane.

“What
do you mean he’s out west? I have an appointment.” People didn’t cancel his
appointments. Nor did they make him wait. The perks of being top of the heap.

“My
Aunt Cecily had her baby early. He took some time off to go meet his new
grandson.”

A
decent excuse, but still… “But what about my hair?” That might have emerged
more plaintively than he’d like. However, who could blame him? They were
talking about his precious luxurious mane that required a regular trim lest the
ends grow ragged, or, worse, a split end dared to make an appearance.

Vanity,
one of his faults, along with arrogance and an unwillingness to budge.

“You?”
A girl, cut his hair? He couldn’t help but laugh, the idea too ridiculous to
contemplate.

“I’m
sorry. I fail to see the entertainment.”

“You
can’t seriously expect me to trust my mane to a woman?” Sexism, alive and well
in Arik’s world, the fault of the females in his pride who’d raised him. No
coddling for Arik. They didn’t believe in letting him play with dolls or caving
to others. His mother and aunts, not to mention his numerous female cousins, had
taught him to be tough. They didn’t allow softness in his world, not when they
groomed him as the future leader of their pride.

He
was all male, all the time, and dammit, a man used a barber, not a hairdresser.
Even if she was cute.

“Suit
yourself. I’ve got more than enough men to take care of—”

Was
that his cat growling?

“—without
adding a pompous one to the list.”

“Pompous?”
Even if she’d pegged him right, it didn’t stop his indignant glare.

A
glare she chose to ignore. She crossed her arms over her chest, plumping her
cleavage—ooh, pretty, shadowy cleft. His curious nature drew his eyes to the mysterious
and beckoningvee until she cleared her throat.

“My
eyes are up here, big guy.”

Caught.
Good thing he was a cat. His kind had no shame, nor did they apologize. He shot
her his most engaging, boyish grin. “My name is Arik. Arik Castiglione.”

She
didn’t react to his smile or titles, so he elaborated, “The CEO for Castiglione
Enterprises.” He stretched his lips wide enough to engage his deadly dimple.

And
still failed to impress.

She
raised a brow. “Is that supposed to mean something?”

Surely
she jested. Within his mind, his poor lion lay down in a traumatized heap and
crossed its paws over its eyes.

“We
are the largest importer of meat in the world.”

Her
shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I don’t check the label to see who brings me my
steak. I just eat it.”

“What
about our chain of restaurants? A Lion’s Pride Steakhouses.”

“Those
I’ve heard of. Decent, I hear, but overpriced. I can get a bigger plate of food
at LongHorn. And according to my girlfriends, the male waiters are cuter too.”

For
once, Arik found himself at a loss for words. His lion on the other hand? His
mane was definitely ruffled—and itching.

Arik
had already gone two weeks longer than usual for this haircut because of an
overseas business trip. Time to get back to his highest priority. “How long
until Dominic is back?”

“A
week, maybe two. I told him to take his time. Granddad doesn’t often take time
off, and he’s getting up there in years.”

A
few weeks? He’d look like a wildebeest if he waited that long. “That’s no good.
I need a cut. Are there any male barbers available?”

“Afraid to let a girl touch your precious
hair?” She smirked. “I can peek at the schedule and see if we can squeeze you
in this afternoon.”

“I
don’t have time to come back. I need it done now.”

Usually
when he used the word now, people jumped to do his bidding. She, on the other
hand, shook her head.

If
she only knew how right she was. But, of course, she didn’t mean the feline
version.

Pride
made him pivot back.“You know what. On second thought, you may cut my hair.”

“How
gracious of you, Your Majesty.” She sketched him a mock bow.

Not
funny, even if accurate. He glared in reply.

“I
see someone’s too uptight for a sense of humor.”

“I
greatly enjoy comedy, when I hear it.”

“Sorry
if my brand of sarcasm is too simple for you to understand, big guy. Now, if
you’re done, sit down so we can get this over with and send you and your
precious hair back to your office.”

A
woman giving him orders? Not uncommon when a male lived surrounded by them. But
actually obeying, that was new – and in this case, unavoidable.

Head
held regally high, Arik took the proffered seat, putting his back to the
female, but he could still watch her in the mirror and track her by scent.
Coconut lotion, fabric softener, and musky woman. All woman.

My woman. Want to
taste.

His
lion grumbled in hunger. Odd because Arik had eaten a hearty breakfast, even
wrestling his beta, Hayder, for the last two pieces of bacon.

The
hairdresser swirled a fabric cape around his upper body, swathing him in
protection against snipped tickly bits. So far the same as usual, except
Dominic’s mere presence never had Arik’s body so aware. The light touch of her
fingers at his nape as she fastened the Velcro closure caused all the hairs on
his body to stiffen. And they weren’t the only thing standing at attention.

Before
he could wonder at his reaction, she withdrew her hand and busied herself with
her tray of instruments. Razor, scissors, brush, comb. But forget the manly
black colors a barber would use. Her tools were pink and black, zebra striped.

The
indignity of it. He almost said something but held his tongue, only because he
could see her watching and waiting for it in the mirror. As if he’d give her
the satisfaction. This cat held his own tongue—for now.

The
hairdresser sifted her fingers through his long strands, lifting and studying
the various layers Dominic usually cut into it. Unlike many businessmen, Arik
preferred to keep his golden mane somewhat long. Funny how many of his lovers
had told him it gave him a leonine appearance—if only they knew the truth.

“How
much are we taking off?”

As
little as possible, given he still didn’t trust her. “About a half inch or so.
Just even up the ends.” That should tide him over until Dominic returned.

“Are
you sure?” She frowned at his crown, as she held long strands up. “You look
like you could use at least two inches off, if not more.”

How
did she know? Arik usually kept his mane to a civilized length that just
touched the top of his collar.

“I’m
sure.”

Author Bio:

~ New York Times and USA Today Bestseller

Hello, my name is Eve and I am a Canadian author who loves to write hot romance, usually with shifters, cyborgs or aliens lol.

Be warned, I do have a twisted imagination and a sarcastic sense of humor something I like to let loose in my writing. I like strong alpha males, naked chests and shifters. Lots of shifters. In fact, you'll notice most of my multi partner stories revolve around great, big, overprotective shifters who just want to please their woman. I am also extremely partial to aliens, you know the kind who like to abduct humans and then drive them insane...with pleasure of course.

I love to write, and while I don't always know what my mind is going to come up with next, I can promise it will be fun, probably humorous and most of all romantic, because I love a happily ever after.

Thanks so much for coming by and checking me out. If you'd like to know more, read some excerpts or find out what's coming next, then please visit me at http://www.EveLanglais.com

Or sign up for my new release email list at http://www.evelanglais.com/newrelease

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